Alexandra
Savannah River, Georgia
Late Fall
Run.
That was the last word Cole said to me as he bled out on the sparring ring floor. He’d done the damage himself, pushing the hatchet handle into my hands before slicing his stomach open like a gutted fish.
His command rings in my ears, haunting me as we travel up the cold Savannah River where my sister’s small boat carries us away from the Chloe-led, Hybrid takeover at The Fort. The sharp wind slaps my cheeks, freezing the blood from the Eaters Rowe and I had killed in our attempt to escape.
“He’s dead,” I yell at my sister over the wind and hum of the engine. “Rowe. He died protecting me.”
Cole shot him without remorse, rambling about betrayal and orders from his new Commander—the new Commander of the genetically modified Hybrid Army, his twin sister Chloe.
“Did you hear me?” I shout, waiting for a reaction from my dethroned sister to the fact one of her men died, but she continues to look over the water, unblinking. For a minute, I think she can’t hear me over the noise, but that’s not true. She hears. She just doesn’t care.
*
We take the river as far as it will go, until we enter the wide, smooth waters of Lake Oconee. There, we take our pick of vacation homes, settling on a cedar plank cabin with fewer windows and isolated property.
Jane brought along three loyal Fighters. Rowe would have been the fourth. One of the men—Jackson—is quiet and efficient. A little bit like Davis, although he’s tall and lanky. He’s quick and precise. He keeps his black hair cut close. His brown eyes are alert.
Green is nearly the opposite. Pale white skin to contrast Jackson’s dark. He’s short and thick, more muscle than anything else. At least, that’s my guess from the cut of his shoulders and chest. I’m caught off guard when he pulls off the black stocking cap and reveals a shock of red hair. It’s like a beacon. He catches me eyeing it and rubs his hand over the flaming hair. “Don’t worry,” he says. “I keep it covered. It’s like a target, right?”
I smile. I think I like him—he reminds me of Jude.
The third fighter is familiar and when we get off the boat, we stare at one another uneasily.
“It’s been a long time,” Walker says, the first to break the tension. I’d last seen her months ago when we escaped from the Vaccine Center. So much has happened during that time.
“It has. It’s good to see you.”
She looks me up and down. “How’s the rest of the team?”
That’s a question I don’t want to answer. Or think about. I’ve done all I can to keep them out of mind. Cole the Hybrid. Wyatt the maybe-more-than-friend. I think about leaving him with the kids, Devin, Kori, and Garrett, with the hope he can get them somewhere safe. I left Davis, Parker, and Jude at Erwin’s latest camp without a goodbye. I swallow their memories like a lump in my throat.
“Alive when I left.” I tilt my head. “But that was before I knew about Chloe’s takeover. I’d come to talk some sense into my sister and ran into a coup instead.”
Walker’s lips twitch. “Not sure if that was bad or good timing.”
“Me either,” I agree. “How did you end up with Jane?”
“She brought me in when you guys ran. I thought she was going to execute me for treason. Instead she made me part of her personal guard.”
“Keep your enemies close, or something like that?” That’s twice, though, that Jane has taken in someone who works closely with me under her wing. Three if you count Wyatt, although he’s a man with his own mission so who knows how much influence she had over him.
“She kept me alive just when things were getting dicey. I’ll do the same for her,” she says, summing up the entirety of Walker’s philosophy on life in two short sentences.
She tosses me my backpack, the one I left in the SUV when I surrendered.
“Thanks,” I say, tugging the blanket I found on the boat over my shoulders for warmth before heading inside the house.
The chill of late fall clings to the house and it feels colder inside than out. Dust coats every surface, heaviest on items like the flat screen TV hanging uselessly on the wall. The cabin is comfortable, though. The owners decorated it nicely and despite the musty smell, it’s free from the stench of death. It doesn’t take long to find what we need. Heavy quilts and canned food in the pantry. A pallet of bottled water in the garage. Jane enters with her nose in the air and a distinct look of distaste on her face. It’s another reminder that she’s never been out in the real post-crisis world and doesn’t know this is as good as it’s going to get.
It’s going to be a long trip.
I corner my sister in a small bedroom. She’s staring at herself in the dusty mirror, looking like a lost child. I sit on the edge of the bed and say, “We’re going to have to talk at some point.”
“I think I’m in shock,” she says, peering into the mirror. “Do I look like I’m in shock?”
“You look like someone whose never stepped foot outside of her fortress during the apocalypse, Jane. Welcome to the world you created. It sucks, and you haven’t even seen the worst of it.”